A Place Called Home
by sofia313
Summary: "So, do you often spend time with your victims before you kill them?" she asked. "No. To be honest, I've never done something like this before." "Oh, so I'm your first? I'm flattered." Tristan/OC one shot
1. Chapter 1

Montana, 2013

Unbelievable. Tristan looked at his pathetic excuse for a car and crossed his arms He was very annoyed; the damn thing was supposed to be state of the art. It certainly wasn't supposed to leave him standing in the middle of nowhere wearing his $5000 suit. Since humans were so evolved in this day and age, why couldn't they invent a form of transportation that didn't break down like this? He wasn't very familiar with cars; he only knew how to drive one. Normally he didn't even drive himself, but this time he had made an exception. He hadn't wanted to take anyone with him.

Unfortunately that meant that he couldn't do much now except wait for a tow truck. A local mechanic called Bob had promised to be here as soon as possible. Tristan huffed impatiently and pondered should he just sit in the car or stretch his legs. All he could see was the highway and plenty of woods. His current situation didn't please him at all. He was merely passing through this backwater; he had an important meeting with highly respected psychiatrist whose book he had recently read. Tristan was hoping that this psychiatrist would be able to help Aurora.

Not that he had very high hopes, he had tried everything during the last 1000 years, but he wasn't going to give up. Not now, not ever. He would always look after his sister. Impatiently he looked at his watch and took few steps away from the car. How long would he have to wait before… He didn't have time to properly formulate his thought when the sound of an engine made him to look up.

A small bright yellow car stopped on the side of the road and a young woman got out. She was probably in her early twenties, her chestnut hair was up in a loose bun and her bright blue eyes were covered by glasses. She was wearing a pair of worn-out jeans, a light yellow sweater and fluffy boots. Perhaps she wasn't the kind of a woman men would immediately notice, but there was something about her…

"Hi there," she said. "You need some help?"

"Thank you, but the tow truck should be here in any minute," Tristan replied.

The woman smiled.

"Yeah, if you mean Bob, that can take a while. May I?"

Tristan raised an eyebrow. What was she talking about?

"Excuse me?"

"I know a little something about cars so do you mind if I take a look?"

"Be my guest," Tristan replied although he wasn't convinced about her knowledge. She smiled at him and opened the hood, he only saw her legs and some smoke.

"Are you sure that you know…"

"Yeah, I know," she cut in.

Tristan almost snorted, how could a petite little thing like her possibly…

"Found it," she said. "The problem seems to be the radiator. The bad news is that I can't fix it."

Her head appeared from under the hood.

"But what I can do is give you a ride to Frankie's. It's a nice place; you definitely have to try their apple pie."

Tristan looked at her. Apple pie? Was she serious?

"I can't leave, the man told me…"

"Hold on a sec," she said and picked up a cell phone out of her pocket. She was dialing numbers before Tristan managed to say anything.

"Hi, Bob," she started. "I'm with Mr.…" She paused and looked at Tristan. "I'm sorry, what's your name?"

He frowned, what was she doing? He had no idea what was going on, but he still told her his name.

"Tristan de Martel."

"With Mr. de Martel," she continued. "Would it be wrong of me to assume that you won't be picking up his car within an hour or two? Right… Uh huh… How about I take Mr. de Martel to Frankie's, I think it would be more comfortable for him to wait there. Do you have his cell number? Great, give him a call then. Thanks Bob."

Tristan stared at her when she hung up. She gave him a sweet smile.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to be too pushy. If you want to wait here…"

"Actually, I would like to accept your offer, miss…"

"Cassie," she said and held out her hand. Tristan took her hand and felt something very strange. Something he had never felt before. There was so much life in her. So much sweet blood. He wanted to have a taste….

"Mr. de Martel?"

Fortunately he managed to pull himself together and focus. She was looking at him expectantly; he was still holding her hand.

"Forgive me," he managed to say. "It seems that I'm a bit abstracted today."

"We should get you some coffee then," she replied smiling. "Come on."

* * *

 _Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump…_ Tristan couldn't concentrate on anything expect the sound of this woman's heartbeat. She was sitting opposite him in the diner called Frankie's. Why had he insisted on buying her a cup of coffee as a thank you for her help? He was fantasizing about throwing her onto the table and sinking his fangs into her pretty little neck. What the hell was wrong with him? It had been centuries since he had craved someone's blood so badly.

He rarely drank it straight from the source these days, he preferred a crystal glass. He liked to think that it was because he wasn't some uncivilized savage, like Lucien, but the truth was that it simply didn't matter to him. Taking lives made absolutely no difference to him but the feeding itself didn't really give him much satisfaction. But now… He wanted to taste her. No, he needed to taste her. Wait, had she been talking this whole time? He had no idea what she had said.

"So, what do you think, Mr. de Martel?" she asked smiling.

Tristan cleared his throat.

"Please, call me Tristan. I'm sorry, what do I think about what?"

She looked amused.

"I really am boring, aren't I?"

"No, no," Tristan said quickly. "Forgive me; this has been a long day."

"That's okay, I understand."

She smiled at the young waitress who placed a cup of coffee in front of her.

"Thanks, Lana. Are we still on for tonight?"

"Definitely. I need all the help I can get for my finals so I can finally get out of this backwater."

Tristan glanced at the waitress, she was maybe 17 or 18, she had short blonde hair and green eyes.

"Thank you," he said when she placed the other cup in front of him.

She looked at him curiously.

"Are you a friend of Cassie's?"

"We actually just met," Cassie said before Tristan managed to reply. "His car broke down."

"Oh. Well, I'm sure Bob can fix it. I'm Lana."

He wouldn't have usually introduced himself to some meaningless waitress, but now he was willing to make an exception.

"Tristan."

"Do you guys want anything else?"

Cassie shook her head.

"I should be going…"

"Pie," Tristan interrupted her. He had no idea what he was doing but he couldn't let her leave. "If I remember correctly, you recommended the apple pie."

Cassie looked surprised.

"Yes, but you really don't have to…"

"I insist. We'll take two slices of that pie."

Lana looked at him and Cassie alternately.

"Sure. Coming right up."

Cassie took a sip out of her cup and smiled.

"Thank you, this is very kind of you."

"The pleasure is all mine, believe me," Tristan replied.

He had decided that tonight he would allow himself to follow his urges. Why not, he deserved a little break. She was just a human, her life meant nothing. He could hardly wait to taste her.

"So, what brings you to our little town?" she asked.

"I was just passing through," he replied.

"Yeah, most people are." She paused and lifted her cup. "Where are you from?"

"I have lived in many places."

"Ah. Is there any place you call home?"

"Not really."

"That sounds a little sad," she stated.

"Why is that?"

She smiled.

"Because to me home is the most important place in the world."

She took another sip out of her cup and tugged a stray hair behind her ear.

"You live here with your husband?" he heard himself asking.

She looked a little surprised.

"No, I'm not married."

Good. What? Why would that matter to him?

"Surely you have a boyfriend?"

"No, I don't."

She was clearly confused; she couldn't understand why he was asking that. He couldn't understand either. Thankfully the waitress brought their pies.

"How about you?" Cassie asked. "Do you have a family?"

"I have a sister," Tristan replied.

"Oh. I used to hope I would have siblings. But at least I had Max."

Tristan frowned.

"Max?"

"My dog."

"Ah."

She finished her pie quickly and smiled at him.

"Thank you for the coffee and the pie but I really have to go now. I'm sure your car will be ready soon…"

"Do you live alone?" Tristan asked, using compulsion. He didn't want to draw any attention so this was the easiest and quickest way to get what he so desperately craved. He wasn't planning to cause this human woman any unnecessary pain, he simply wanted her blood. Playing with his food had never appealed to him.

"Yes," she replied automatically.

"Good. Where do you live?"

He noticed the confusion in her eyes but she still answered without hesitation.

"I have a small house that I inherited from my grandparents."

He nodded.

"Alright, here's what is going to happen now; you will go to your car and wait for me there. There is no need to be afraid, everything is alright. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Good, go and wait for me then."

She stood up and walked out without saying a word. He waited a moment before following her but no one seemed to be paying any attention to him. That waitress, who apparently was his human's friend, was talking with some elderly woman. Cassie was sitting on the driver's seat of her small yellow car, just like he had told her to. He opened the door and sat next to her.

"Now we will go to your house," he said calmly.

She nodded and started the car.

"Why do you want to go to my house?" she asked, although she didn't sound worried. Of course she didn't, he had told her not to be afraid.

"You have something that I want," he replied.

"Oh. What's that?"

For a moment he thought about lying to her but for some reason he didn't feel like doing that.

"Your blood."

Her eyes widened and she turned to look at him.

"My blood? Are you…are you going to kill me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

She still didn't sound scared, only confused.

"It's nothing personal, I can assure you. I simply need to taste your blood."

"Taste it? Are you a vampire or something?"

"Yes," he replied calmly. "I am a vampire."

"Oh", she muttered. "That's…strange. Do you really have to kill me; could you just…not drain me?"

Despite of the situation, Tristan was amused. This was definitely the strangest conversation he had ever had. He couldn't help but wonder how she would have reacted if he wouldn't have taken her fear away.

"My apologies," he stated.

Why was he apologizing? She was just a human. Meaningless. She was biting her lower lip when they reached a small sand road. Tristan noticed a cozy looking cottage. He opened the car door and held out his hand for her.

"Please…" she murmured.

"We will go to the door now and you will invite me in," he cut in firmly.

She looked at him pleadingly but she had no choice but to obey.

"Come in," she said quietly.

Full of anticipation he entered her house. She was looking at him intensively, clearly trying to clear her thoughts. He stepped in front of her and touched her chin very gently.

"It won't hurt, I promise you."

Why had he just promised that, what difference did it make if she would feel pain? Her body tensed, not with fear, with anger.

"I suppose you expect me to thank you," she hissed.

"I don't."

Tristan looked around in her nice little house. The living room was small but cozy; there was a fireplace, a floral print couch, a matching armchair and an ottoman, a little coffee table, a colorful rug, a bookshelf full of books and porcelain angels, apparently she collected them. There were candles, fresh flowers on the coffee table, fluffy pillows on the couch, framed pictures above the fireplace, embroideries on the wall, everything was just… What, he wasn't really sure. She was standing next to the couch with her arms crossed.

"Do you want some tea?" she suddenly asked.

That surprised him completely.

"Tea?"

She shrugged.

"Why not, I would like to have a cup before…"

She didn't finish her sentence.

"Sure, why not," he replied and followed her to the kitchen. It was as nice as the living room, the small kitchen table was round and there was a checkered tablecloth on it. The curtains were yellow floral and there were old looking porcelain dish on a small shelf. Tristan sat at the table when Cassie started to make the tea.

"So, have you been a vampire for a long time?" she asked.

"Over a millennium," he replied.

Her hands stopped working and she turned to look at him.

"Really? That's…a very long time."

"Yes, it certainly is."

She turned back to her teakettle and took something out of the cupboard.

"So, do you often spend time with your victims before you kill them?"

"No. To be honest, I've never done something like this before."

"Oh, so I'm your first? I'm flattered."

He smiled and was about to speak when she suddenly turned and threw the boiling water on him. Despite of being as old as he was, that still hurt enough to make him scream. She ran towards the front door as fast as she could, but he had no trouble catching her. Angrily he grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her from behind, keeping her in place.

"Let me go!" she shouted, struggling as hard as she could. "Let me go!"

The adrenaline made her heart to beat faster, heightening the scent of her blood. Tristan knew that he should have been nothing but furious, but instead of retaliating, he closed his eyes and snuggled his face in her silky chestnut hair. He couldn't help it, her scent was too inviting. She stopped struggling and held still. After a moment he turned her around and touched her cheek. She flinched and kept her eyes on the floor. A tear rolled down her cheek. Slowly she looked up, ready to face her death.

He would most definitely make her pay for what she had just done. He would. Right now. She gasped when he touched her lips with his thumb. The next thing he realized was that he was kissing her. He was kissing a human he was going to drain. Dear Lord, she tasted good. He drew her as close as possible, wanting to devour her. Apparently it wasn't only her blood what he craved for… More, he needed more… No, what was he doing. By some miracle he managed to pull away, facing her stunned expression. She was speechless; her blue eyes stared at him disbelievingly.

Despite of the situation, Tristan couldn't help but enjoy the sight of her; she was… perfect. She was his. What? He definitely needed to get out before he would do something irreversible. She didn't say anything when he made eye contact and was about to erase all her memories involving him. For some reason he hesitated, he didn't want to erase all of them.

Without really knowing why, he let her remember everything what had happened before they had left the diner. He was gone before she blinked, but he didn't leave right away. For a moment he observed her house from the woods. In order to calm down, that was what he kept telling to himself. He had almost made a terrible mistake… His phone started to ring before he managed to finish his thought.

 _"Hi, it's Bob; I'm calling about your car…"_

Tristan had forgotten the whole thing, but he was nothing but glad about this distraction. He definitely needed to get as far away from here as he could. He had no idea what had just happened and he didn't want to find out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Some of you asked for a second part, so here it is.**

* * *

1 year later

Tristan parked his car in front of the small cottage and got out. He couldn't see any light. She was asleep. Well, it was past midnight already. Quickly he zoomed to the front door and unlocked it. The cottage was just as tidy as always and he picked up the sweet flowery scent. Her scent. He licked his lips and made his way to her bedroom. Silently he pushed the door open and looked at her. She was sleeping peacefully, wearing an oversized t-shirt and panties. Her soft breathing was rhythmic and her chestnut hair was spread out across her pillow. Slowly he approached the bed and leaned toward her. Finally, he had been looking forward to this. She sighed in her sleep when he touched her warm cheek.

"Cassie?" he whispered and sat down on the edge of the bed.

She didn't wake up; he ran his fingertips along the line of her hair and gently parted her soft lips with his thumb. Dear Lord, he wanted her so much…

"Cassie? Wake up, sweetheart."

She didn't. He touched her arm and ran his fingers down it to catch her hand. Slowly he raised it to his lips and put one finger in his mouth, touching the soft pad with his teeth and tongue. Just a little taste… Her eyes opened when he pressed her fingertip against his fang.

"It's me," he said quickly. His face was normal again.

She blinked few times; her eyesight wasn't very good without her glasses.

"Tristan?" she murmured sleepily.

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her.

"What…what time is it?"

"It's late," he replied and ran his hand across her ribs, caressing her waist and hip. "I'm sorry for not calling."

"That's okay. There's some lasagna in the fridge if you're hungry…"

"I think I want to skip straight to my dessert," he cut in. His hand moved to her thigh while he bent his head and touched his mouth to her neck. He wanted her badly; he had ever since he had kissed her the first time a year ago. He still couldn't really understand it; there simply was something about her… That something had made him to come back to this one pony town only a week later. He had needed to see her again.

Becoming her boyfriend certainly hadn't been his plan, but somehow that had happened. Of course it had required a lot of work; she hadn't been willing to believe that he was interested in her. She had thought that he was playing some kind of game with her. Perhaps that had been true, but it wasn't anymore. He wanted her. All of her. The whole thing was nothing but crazy, if anyone would know what he was doing…

"No, Tristan wait," she said when his fingers were reaching the edging of her panties. "I would like to talk."

"Go ahead, sweetheart," he hummed; his lips were still sucking her neck. "I'm listening."

"No," she said firmly and pushed him away. "I really need to talk."

He frowned when she got into a sitting position, turned on the light on her nightstand and picked up her glasses.

"This is important."

Reluctantly he nodded.

"Alright. What is bothering my beautiful lady?"

She blinked few times and hesitated for a moment before replying.

"I want to talk about us. I mean, we've been dating for almost 10 months and I… I want to know how you see our future."

"What do you mean?"

She sighed.

"I don't want to sound like a nagging girlfriend, but I've thought about this a lot and I would like to know are you serious with me?"

"Of course I am," Tristan replied. "Why would you doubt that?"

"Well, let's take this moment for example. You come here in the middle of the night after being gone for weeks and you expect me to immediately be ready to have sex with you."

He tensed.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry if you feel that I have been disrespectful, that certainly wasn't my intention, but I have told you what you do to me. I want you."

"And I have told you that I'm flattered. I'm aware that a man like you could get any woman he wants and I should be nothing but grateful for the fact that you want to be with someone like me, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't have any self-respect." She paused and crossed her arms. "Sometimes I feel that you only want sex and I deserve more than that. Despite of…everything."

"Sweetheart…" Tristan started and moved closer to her. "I'm truly sorry if I have ever made you feel like that. I don't want you to think for a second that I wouldn't respect you…"

"Then why haven't I ever met your sister or any of your friends? You think they would laugh at you for dating someone like me?"

"No! No, absolutely not. I have told you that my sister isn't… well and my friends… I don't really have friends. I have associates."

She sighed and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, but I just feel that you're embarrassed by me."

"I'm not," he assured. "Why would I be? You are beautiful."

He knew that she didn't see herself like that, despite of all his efforts. She was an outgoing and positive person, but she was also very self-conscious about her scars. The scars her first and only boyfriend before Tristan had caused her. He had carved the word "whore" in her flesh under her breasts. The sick bastard had heated his knife with a lighter just to leave her permanent scars.

Cassie hadn't wanted to show her upper body to Tristan, not even when they have had sex. She had always wanted to wear a top or a t-shirt. He had seen her completely naked for the first time couple of weeks ago. Perhaps that was the reason for all of this, she was feeling insecure and exposed. He always sent her flowers and gifts when he was away, but apparently she needed more right now. He leaned toward her and gently cupped her chin.

"You are beautiful, my love. Nothing is ever going to make me think otherwise."

She was blushing; he smiled and gave her a gentle kiss.

"Can we just sleep tonight?" she murmured. "I'm tired."

He nodded.

"Of course."

He stood up and stripped off all his clothes, except his boxers, while she took her glasses off and placed them on the nightstand. She made a small sigh as he got into bed beside her and gathered her to him. He drew her closer, twining his legs with hers. It didn't take long when her body relaxed and she slipped into sleep. This wasn't what he had wanted and his body wasn't pleased at all, but right now her needs came first. That was strange; he had never cared about anyone else's needs, apart from Aurora's. Cassie was a human; she wasn't supposed to mean anything to him. Yet she did. He sighed and held her tighter. He just wanted to keep her.


End file.
